Borobygos is by no means a small orc, but then again, when have there been small orcs. But in this case, he is bigger than most. He spends his days living a rather spartan life. The mornings are used to fell trees for the night, and the afternoon is spent hunting for stray sun deers, or if he is lucky, he looks for Gloatinous Mushrooms, which are rare in these parts.

Borobygos lives in the mountain region of Jeros which overlooks Dwendil on both sides since it is smack dab in the middle of the country. He was once part of a proud race of Orcs called Jerosian Orcs, who are known for their battle prowess and gaiamancy, a type of magic that lets them meld stone to their liking. During the war that divided the continent, they were known for creating massive stone titans, capable of felling entire fortresses, but now after the war, Borobygos is one of the last few of his kind.

Jerosians are rather mild in nature despite their battle prowess, if it wasn’t because of the war, they would have been a well-versed farming folk. But with scars now present on his face, Borobygos looks at the sun above his head, with memories long foregone, thinking of what could have been.

During his days in the war, he did not fight for his kind as many Jerosians would, instead, he fled to join up with a band of mercenaries in search of less fighting and perhaps more peace, or so he thought at the time. He did not expect that the life of a mercenary offers up battles of a different sort, which often leads to dark deeds done just to earn some coin. Borobygos never understood the fascination of the humans to their coin, as he would be able to meld the minerals into coin whenever he liked, he found them to be rather dispensable. But humans, they wage wars over unsown earth and kill countless tribes over trinkets like currency.

Nevertheless, he joined the mercenary group and soon became part of a legendary group called The Zealots Nine. So aptly named for their zealous nature and their resistance to their origins. Each member with their own quirks and magic, but each with a different upbringing. He remembered they used to work well, that was until towards the end of the war, in the Battle of Shalagrad, whereby they were tasked with taking out a cult of necromancers using the bodies of dead soldiers as part of a demonic ritual to summon a Daemonic prince.

Borobygos had a simple task, open up the earth between the necromancers as they began their ritual, but when he saw that they had captured a young elf girl and was about to use her as a blood sacrifice, he revealed their position causing a skirmish between the Zealots and the necromancers. He materialised a stone spear and imbued it with Lightness and Sharpness, before impaling the necromancer holding on to the child.

The spear went through the hooded figure, causing him to bleed out and turn to dust upon falling on the ground. The remaining necromancers began to summon Nether Spirits and Conjure Shadow Wells in order to get away, but the leader of the Zealots saw to that and began calling upon his affinity to Time to surprise them from behind, locking them in stasis before they could react.

Borobygos sighed, every time he reaches this part of the memory, he can’t help but wish that he had been more prepared.

Immediately, after rounding up the necromancers, Borobygos tends to the timid elf child, but to his horror, as he held her hand, he could find no traces of her Lifeforce Core, the essence of every being in Bandolia, to which their affinity to magic is created. The child looks up towards him, her face is half mutilated, replaced with a demonic figure. It spoke in a lost language, creating a magic circle on the whole encampment.

Borobygos feels for where his right arm would have been, he had never seen such carnage in one sitting. The child was the result of the ritual and what they saved was the Daemonic prince that they were hoping to prevent from entering this realm. The zealots had no choice but to retreat, while the daemon summoned his army from the Nether realm through the magic circle.

It was since that incident, that he has always felt like he was the reason the daemon got loose, which led him to leave the group after to fight the Daemon Prince as a form of atonement. Alas, it would not be he who would fell the Daemon, for he could find no trace of the army nor the Prince.

Borobygos decided that he will lay low until the day comes that the Prince resurfaces allowing him to achieve his penance. Now many years after the war, Borobygos waits on Jeros, waiting for the right time. He only wonders, why had the Daemon Prince not expand his influence the moment he arrived.

Why the waiting game, daemons are not known for their passiveness? And now many years later, he sees a familiar figure heading up the mountain, he believes that his days of peace might soon be over.

Borobygos conjures a stone dragon and gets on the construct, heading towards the figure.